Slow Burn
by RainSpell
Summary: They never said "I love you". It was far too simple and unassuming a phrase for the intricate way they twined around each other, first out of necessity and eventually of their own free will. ChoeMaki. A Spell story.
1. Introduction

**A/N:** This chapter will serve as a table of contents of sorts, in the eventuality that each scenario will get its own drabble chapter. Since that won't happen with any due speed, (haha sorry…) this chapter also reads as a drabble on its own. Enjoy!

* * *

The first time they meet is a night of violence, suspicion, and grudging respect.

Neither really expects to see the other again.

.

.

.

The first time they work towards the same goal, it is clear who is the master and who is the servant.

Neither really expects this to change.

.

.

.

The first time they spend 24 consecutive hours in the same building, it's only because there isn't a better solution.

Neither really expects this arrangement to last.

.

.

.

The first time they do it, one sees it as an experiment and the other as practice for dealing with their next target.

Neither really expects to enjoy it so much.

.

.

.

The first time they fight, it almost ends tragically, with a razor only a few centimeters away from touching flesh.

Neither really expects an apology.

.

.

.

The first time Makishima Shougo comes to understand loneliness, he aches so much and so long that he almost wishes that he had never met Choe Gu Sung in the first place.

Based on what he's read, he never expects it to fade away completely.

For the first time, he's right.

* * *

 **A/N:** I don't believe that Makishima, monster that he is, is capable of love. But that doesn't mean he can't enjoy steady, healthy, companionship. I mean, even _he_ deserves someone special in his life, even if it's not exactly _love_.


	2. Spark

_The first time they meet is a night of violence, suspicion, and grudging respect._

 _Neither really expects to see the other again._

 **Chapter 1: Spark**

 _I knew it I knew it I knew it._ He curses as he swerves around the corner and dives through a massive pile of old, forgotten crates. The sharp cracks of splintering wood makes him wince and he knows that it won't be long before those blasted MWPSB hounds are snapping at his heels. _The whole thing was a trap, just like I had originally suspected. I should have known to trust my instincts._ The man quickly scans the skyline and clambers up a fire escape ladder. The doors are locked from the outside, but all he needs is about 7 seconds to transfer his Keyvirus from his set of anti-Sybil tools to the computerized lock. The door beeps and Choe Gu-Sung cracks it ever-so-slightly open. He's pushing it on time, he knows, but it wouldn't do him any more good to be surprised by an insomniac making coffee at two in the morning. Fortunately for him, this time the hallway is completely dark. Before he steps inside, he casts a quick glance back the way he came.

From his vantage point on the 5th story, Choe quickly spots the organized movements of his pursuers, thankful for the fact that his vision is not handicapped by lack of light. Out of habit, he carefully but quickly scans the area around him. Down…left and right. Up… left and right. He's about to slip through the doorway when his eyes unexpectedly meet another pair. Staring at him from the rooftop across the street was a slenderly-built man whose long white hair rippled in the breeze. He is standing level with Choe and smiles enigmatically. The hacker freezes, immediately calculating distances and speeds and exit strategies. But when the man fails to pull out a Dominator, Choe narrows his eyes, trying to discern what side this man was on – there were only two: for him or against him. He itches to dash into the building, but he doesn't move. No way is he going to turn his back on a potential adversary.

A shout floats up to them, and the unmistakable blue light of Sybil's Judgement lights up the alley below. Choe winces at the muted splatters of exploded flesh raining on the pavement. _And then there was one._ His reaction doesn't go unnoticed, and a hint of amusement now permeates the mysterious man's expression. His arm flashes out and Choe jerks to the side, yanking open the door in preparation to run. A large stone whacks into the wall beside him and, accompanied by a shower of broken brick, rattles onto the metal walkway and gives his position away. Irritation swells up in him as he sees that the stone-thrower's face appears even more delighted. _Against me, then._ The Korean has time only for a truly withering look before he darts into the dark hallway and the door clicks shut behind him.

 _~s~_

 _Adversity reveals character. Now let's see who you are._ Makishima Shougo flips up his hood and melts back into the shadows, his engagements for the evening ignored in favor of watching the manhunt. The way that the target had moved was not at all like the usual, panicked, people that the MWPSB chased down – not like the fool who was now a pile of organic matter sitting in the alley. No, the man with the strange eyes had been deliberate, quick, and sure of what he was doing, even when Shougo himself had intervened with a well-aimed rock. That had been enough to pique Makishima's interest, and he is looking forward to some entertainment tonight.

"It's very much locked. Can we get a drone up here?" The Inspector's urgent voice carries across the wind, and Makishima flattens himself against the wall as the same wind pushes the cloud cover away, letting moonlight dapple onto the roof. He is not afraid of the Dominators, but he does not want to draw attention to himself either, not now. Five minutes pass before the police are able to burn their way through the metal door and dash inside. Makishima is mildly impressed with the hindrance the door had caused. None of the Inspector's usual methods of breaking in had worked, including a complete security system override using Bureau credentials. Whatever the man had done, it was effective and obviously illegal. _It could be worth looking into._

Makishima waits until he is certain that no one else is going to run up the fire escape before detaching from the wall and moving closer to the edge. He sweeps his golden gaze across the 5-story drop, looking for the quickest way to get to the taller building. Then a barely detectable rumble vibrates through the air, immediately followed by a series of blasts that light up the night like the fireworks on New Year's. The world falls mute and Makishima is thrown backwards by the explosions. He lands heavily on his side and rolls to minimize further injury. The utter silence is unnerving, and he admits that the sudden vulnerability makes him a little nervous. He needs to relocate himself before he's taken by the wrong sort of surprise. A look back at the building reveals wreaths of thick black smoke, and orange flames stabbing upwards on one corner. Distressed citizens peer out from the nearby apartments, and Makishima can practically see the Area Stress levels rising. Fighting a sudden bout of dizziness, he pushes himself to his feet and casts one more look at the blown-out fifth floor. He doesn't doubt that the PSB is now short a few agents. The muted wail of sirens trickles into his ear, signaling the gradual return of hearing and with it some sense of balance. His nausea begins to ebb away, and that is enough for Shougo. He chuckles and turns to leave. The chaos was a beautiful distraction, he had to give the mystery man that much.

He catches movement in his peripheral vision and instinctively begins to twist his body in response. He's too late, and he takes a hard hit to his side. He grunts at the impact, automatically rebalancing himself to launch an attack of his own. His still-impaired ears throw him off, but he manages to land an elbow to the gut before receiving a solid kick that knocks his legs out from underneath him. Makishima quickly rolls away to gain some distance before springing up again. He nearly slips right off the moonlit rooftop, and he takes a quick moment to commit the borders of this little arena to memory. Adrenaline spikes his blood and he grins. He hasn't had this much fun in a long while. He gets his first good look at his opponent and raises his eyebrows when he sees that it is none other than the mystery man. His clothes are sooty and sprinkled with ash, but he appears unharmed by the blasts that he had undoubtedly set up. _Well. Let's see what you've got then._ Makishima smiles and launches into a roundhouse kick.

 _~s~_

They circle, moving on the balls of their feet as each appraises the other. One strikes and the other ducks, moving with the precision and fluidity of a pair of dancers. Sometimes the blows land and sometimes they don't, but each gives as good he gets.

Choe Gu-Sung grits his teeth as he narrowly evades a jab at his throat. If he survives this, he is going to a walking bruise the next morning. What he had intended to be a brief show of intimidation had quickly taken a turn for the worse. He had underestimated the speed and the skill of the white-haired man, and was now suffering the consequence of his error. _At least the police are busy dealing with the Area Stress Alert_. He is beginning to tire, and knows that this has to end soon; before the other man's superior skill deals him a disabling blow. In a brief moment of respite, he gathers his energy and unleashes a quick sequence of attacks meant to overwhelm his opponent and drive a wedge into any cracks in their defense. He rears back for the final strike, but his wrists are suddenly straining against the pressure of another pair of hands.

The two men stand there, arms locked above their heads and sweat sliding down their faces. Choe Gu-Sung is taller, and has the advantage of gravity, but it has been a long time since he has faced such a dangerous opponent – who was much stronger than he looked. His unsettlingly serene expression seems completely detached from their current situation, and Choe's concentration wavers for a brief instant. Sudden, excruciating pain shoots up his arm, and with a gasp he instinctively tries to flinch away, inadvertently putting his back to his adversary. It had happened with such celerity that he couldn't comprehend how he had ended up in this position. The pressure on his elbow increases steadily, and Choe knows it won't be long before it snaps. In a desperate attempt to free himself, he throws all of his weight backwards. His leg thwacks into the other man's, and when he feels the slight stumble, he uses his heavier mass to bring them both crashing down. It works, and this time it's Choe who hurries to put distance between them.

The fight has taken a toll on both of them, yet neither is the type to give up.

"Do you…wish me…dead?" Choe manages to ask as they crouch on the rooftop catching their breaths and ignoring their bruises. His intended tone of intimidation falls flat, broken by his panting lungs.

"To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream. It's been said that to the well-organized mind, death–"

Choe scoffs and interrupts. "Do me a favor and cut out the adjectives." Much to his surprise, the other man chuckles. The Korean looks up and sees a new gleam in the man's eyes. For a few moments they maintain the eye contact. Like recognizes like, and a sense of understanding passes between the two. With a slight shake of his head and a dangerous flash in his eyes, the man answers Choe's original question. _Not tonight._ The Korean returns with a curt nod, acknowledging the deeper meaning. _Then I have no argument with you._ He blows out a breath and pushes his hair out of his face. He is rather relived; he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he had been out of his league in the scuffle.

He rises to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate as he keeps a wary eye on the younger man. "Follow me and I'll kill you." He threatens, and he means it. Maybe not by means of a fistfight, but he had plenty of other methods to eliminate unwanted company. He walks purposefully to the exit, ignoring the instinct to cradle his aching arm against his side. He needs to move before his IP address is finally tracked down and his hovel raided. He makes it to the door before the white-haired man speaks.

"I'm tempted. It would be fun." The response makes Choe pause, but he doesn't turn around. He contemplates a retort but ultimately settles for a shrug of the shoulders before he descends down the stairs, forcing his legs to keep a normal, uninjured pace, at least until his footfalls were out of earshot.

His limbs – especially that arm – are starting to twinge and seize up, and he curses the strange outlaw (for he was no Sybil-fearing citizen, that's for sure). Countering – and losing – tails has become second nature to the ex-spy, even when he's a little beat up, and so as he weaves through the darkened alleys, Choe finds his thoughts wandering back to the white-haired man. _Looks like the MWPSB will have a new 'Most Wanted' soon._ Strangely enough, he finds that he does not mind coming in second, not to a man of _that_ caliber.

 _~s~_

Makishima gives the man ample time to exit the building before heading down the stairs himself. He treads lightly with his right foot, and even lighter with his left. By the time he reaches the ground floor, his breathing is slightly labored and he pauses to catch his breath. The foreigner – for he spoke with a slight accent – knew how to fight, that's for sure. He is glad he stopped tonight, even if it means spending the next few days nursing his bruises. Shougo limps over to a busier street and hails a taxi, winking at the Street Scanner as he passes. _Silly little sheep. Don't you know that there are_ two _wolves walking amongst you now?_

* * *

 **A/N:** Makishima is decidedly difficult to write. So are fight scenes. *sigh* Any and all feedback will be welcomed with open arms.

Quoted works, in order of appearance: _Hamlet_ , by William Shakespeare. _Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone,_ by J.K. Rowling. _To Kill A Mockingbird_ , by Harper Lee


End file.
